


Gimme One More Shot

by Whreflections



Series: Oklahoma verse [2]
Category: Angel: the Series RPF, Kane (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Kind of infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 23:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, it takes fucking up to see the broader scale of everything you've been doing wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gimme One More Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so two things, really…even though I meant for this verse to pretty much be totally non-AU up until a certain point, even though I tried to get it right I messed up my timeline a little. Before in a fic, I referred to Steve having already met David and Jaime before he and Chris were technically together, but that wouldn’t have been possible because the way the timeline should’ve worked out, Chris hadn’t been on Angel yet. But now that I said that, I have to work with it, so this is a little more AU than I originally planned, lol Sorry! T.T So, you’ll see a little bit of David here…which leads to the fact that I only know David through fic. SO…I will do my best, but that’s my warning on me writing him, lol 
> 
> 58\. Dinner

Waking up, the first thought Christian had was that maybe, just maybe he’d dreamed the rest of what had happened last night. He didn’t really believe it, though, and it took opening his eyes after a deep breath to realize he was wrong. The fan over his head was white, turning slow because even though it was only May the days got pretty hot, and even with the cold nights this girl had said she needed something extra.   
  
 _Fuck._    
  
He sat up, carefully, glancing over at her still asleep beside him. She was beautiful, red hair spilled across her pillow, her body curved where she’d been curled up next to him. Her name was Nicole, and she’d been playin’ pool at the table next to him and Jay last night. She was good, and soon they were talking and drinking and…  
  
He buried his face in his hands, trying to scrub the last edges of disorientation away. He was nearly all the way awake, now, and he was starting to feel the hangover. Not a bad one, just a dull throb at the back of his head and the annoyance of how dry his mouth felt when he tried to swallow. He could still see the light spilling in around his fingers, penetrating. Shit, he didn’t even know what time it was. Had to have been after five when they fell asleep, and he didn’t feel exhausted so really, it couldn’t exactly  _be_  morning anymore.   
  
He sighed, let his hands drop. He had to get up, had to get out of there and then he had to think, because he sure as hell hadn’t been doing any of that yesterday. He slipped out of bed carefully, sliding off the mattress slow so he could put one hand on it to ease the way it sprang up in the absence of his weight. She stirred but didn’t wake, and he looked on the floor till he found his jeans and boxers by the door, his belt clinking on the hardwood as he yanked them up. The sheets rustled, then, and he looked up as he finished buckling it, just in time to see her raising up on one elbow, blinking sleepily.  
  
“Hey.” She held the sheet just over her chest, and her voice was still all heavy and soft with sleep and before, he’d have found something endearing in those things. Now, he couldn’t feel anything past the sick lump in his throat that would hardly let him answer her.   
  
“Mornin’.” He was scanning the room for his shirt even as he spoke, and when he saw it just to his right he snatched it up, tossing it back and forth in his hands as he crossed the distance back to the bed. “Hey, I uh, I’ve-“  
  
“Gotta get going, yeah, I figured.” She was even smiling, and  _God_  but her taking this so well was making him feel even worse. He was pretty sure that shouldn’t have even been possible. “It was fun. Maybe I’ll catch one of your shows sometime.”   
  
“Yeah, yeah, that’d be great.” And by great, he meant ‘a train wreck’. He brushed his hair absently back out of his eyes, leaned over to cup one hand against her cheek for a last kiss that felt all wrong but that seemed like an obligation. “Good luck with art school, ok?”   
  
She murmured an answer, and he turned and tugged his shirt on on the way to the door. Once he was out in her hallway he stopped, leaned against the wall to gather a little bit of his thoughts. They’d taken a cab here, so he’d have to ride back to get his car, which meant his keys should be in his pockets unless he’d somehow left them with Jay. First things first, that was the easiest thing just then, keep his mind busy. He patted himself down, found the keys and his pocket knife in his right pocket, his phone(dead) in his left, his wallet in the back. He pushed off from the wall then, walked to the kitchen and wrote his number down on the back of a pizza flyer sitting on the island and left it there. Nice as she was, he more than hoped to never hear from her again, but even though he tried to be sure to always be careful, he always wanted to take precautions anyway.   
  
After that he left, wishing he could’ve locked the door behind him and hoping she’d get up after him and come get it. It wasn’t a bad area, really, but all the same…L.A. He made it to the street, hailed a cab, gave directions back to the bar, and realized he was at the end of his list of ‘basic tasks to keep from thinking about the inevitable’.   
  
He let out a slow breath, energy seeming to drain right out of him at the thought. He rested his head against the window, watching the street, though he regretted it as soon as they passed a bank sign.   
  
3:00.  _3:00_.   
  
Steve was supposed to come over at five so they could go out to dinner. He had to be ready for that in two fucking hours, and he wasn’t even sure he could sort his own damn head out in the next 48 hours and  _God_  he was an  _idiot_.   
  
Somewhere at the back of his head there was a still a stupid little annoying voice reminding him that he and Steve, they weren’t  _really_  together. He had nothing to explain, nothing to feel guilty over. Except that if he wasn’t so much of a fucking coward, he’d have come out and said something to Steve already about makin’ it official, and as far as guilt went, he was already swimming in it. Felt like his stomach was tearing itself apart from the inside, in counterpoint to the faint nausea that nearly always came with nights he went over his own considerable limit with alcohol. Thinkin’ about the technicalities of it, he was just fooling himself. Or failing to fool himself, at any rate. They were together in every way that counted, and he’d had feelings for Steve he wasn’t ready to talk even to himself about for a long time now and just then, he’d never in his whole life felt more like an ass. And considering all the things he’d done in high school, that was sure as hell sayin’ something.   
  
The fact that he’d done it was bad enough, something to eat at his conscious and drive him crazy. Because it wasn’t  _just_ the guilt. That was certainly part of it, but there was the rest, too. The sick gnawing he’d felt waking up next to someone else, how he’d felt when he kissed her, how he felt now in the car, thinking about Steve and the last time they’d been together a week ago. They’d had sex on his living room floor and he could still feel Steve’s hands on his skin, hear the way he’d groaned when Chris had pushed into him, his whole body shuddering like he’d been so hungry for it it hurt to wait. When he came it’d been with Christian’ name on his lips and Chris had watched him, watched those pretty blue eyes and seen more in them than he had the nerve to want to admit and remembering it then was eating a hole in his chest.   
  
He loved him. Fuck, he loved him, and he’d had his head buried in the sand so hard he hadn’t been able to realize that until realizing a simple thing like a stupid one night stand felt like it was damn near breaking his heart.   
  
By the time the taxi stopped, he at least had that much figured out. Not that it made him feel anything but worse.   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
At 4:50, Steve knocked on the door. Chris knew from a glance at the microwave, and he stopped chopping the kielbasa just long enough to call back over his shoulder.   
  
“Hey, man, it’s open!”   
  
He swallowed hard, tried to will his hands to stay steady on his cutting as he followed the sound of Steve’s approach, from the lock of the door to sound his footsteps made as he crossed onto the linoleum. There, he stopped.   
  
“You’re cooking.” Deadpan, and if he hadn’t still been such a wreck, Christian probably would’ve laughed.   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“ _You’re_  cooking.” His laugh rang with more than a little disbelief but plenty of honest amusement, and he took a step closer. “Should I be worried?”   
  
He managed a grin at that, turned around to whack his arm lightly with the flat of the knife. “Hey, I don’t wanna hear anything from you. Here I wanted to make you somethin’ for dinner and you’re already complainin’. I think maybe I-“  
  
Steve stopped him easily, his arms wrapping around Christian’s waist from behind, his chin coming to rest against his shoulder. “It’s great. I was just worried about you there for a minute; I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually use a kitchen.”  
  
“Most of the time, don’t feel like I really have the time anymore. But, back home in Norman-“ He paused, shifted the meat he’d already cut over to the skillet. “-me and Brandon both used to help momma cook quite a bit. Picked up a lot of things, and I’ve always enjoyed it. It’s just findin’ the time, and havin’ someone to cook for.” There, he almost stole a look back him, but he stopped himself. Instead he relaxed into his embrace, leaning back into his chest just enough to be sure Steve knew he wanted him to stay right there. “This isn’t much, just some pasta she used to make, but-“  
  
“I’m sure it’ll be great.” Steve kissed his neck, just below his jaw. It was too quick, the warmth of his lips searing like a brand. “Thanks, Christian.”   
  
He cleared his throat, shifted into him just a little more until Steve’s arms around his waist tightened. “Yeah, anytime.”   
  
Steve’s thumb slid just under his shirt, rubbing absently over bare skin as he talked. “So you and Jay went out last night?”  
  
 _Shit_. Shitshitshit. He pulled away on the pretense of throwing his trash away, nearly throwing it in the sink before he remembered it was trash and not dishes and opened the bottom cabinet. “Yeah, it was good. We played a few rounds of pool; I kicked his ass.” He didn’t look back as he said it, tried not to fidget when Steve laughed, soft and easy.   
  
“Nothin’ new then, huh?”   
  
“Nah, not really.”  _Except for the part where I…fuck, Steve…_  He rubbed his hands together, distracting from his own thoughts, and he stepped up to the stove to stir the sausage, sliced bell pepper, and onions he had sizzling in the pan. It gave a chance to breathe, and to change the subject, and he jerked his chin over in the direction of the section of counter next to the fridge. “Hey, can you get me that French bread?”   
  
Nothing,  _nothing_  about this dinner was gonna go like he’d planned yesterday. Of course, yesterday he’d still been planning to take Steve out to that new seafood place he’d heard about from his neighbor, but those were all kind of irrelevant details at the moment. They were here and he was cooking and Steve was talking about the bits of his week they hadn’t already talked about on the phone and Chris was barely catching any of it.   
  
By the grace of God he somehow managed to not burn anything, and by the time he got it all out on the table Steve was hungry and impatient, smiling and eager to give it a try. Chris snagged them a couple beers, sat down at his side of the little square table just off from the island in the kitchen and tried to eat.   
  
Steve loved it and that was something, but for his own part he just couldn’t manage to get it down. He took a few bites but he mostly just pushed it around, and even though he was tryin’ not to be obvious about it he was hoping Steve didn’t notice. Course,  _he_  was watching Steve like a hawk, and when Steve reached over to coax Chris to try a piece of the bread he’d dipped in olive oil, his thumb brushed tantalizingly over Christian’s lower lip.   
  
That touch alone was enough to spark a low burn, desire and the pure  _need_  to catch Steve’s wrist just so he could touch him. Somehow, though, he resisted that, shredded a corner of his napkin instead. How,  _how_  had he never noticed this before? I mean, sure, he wasn’t an idiot. This thing had been going on between them for months now, but he’d thought…at least, he’d had himself convinced that really, they were just friends. It wasn’t much more, just…just friends, best friends with a little extra on the side, and it could stay that way. Except he hadn’t really thought about it that way for quite awhile now, and the scary thing was, he wasn’t sure just how long that had been. Really looking at it then, he’d mostly just stopped thinking about it at all,  _doing_  without any consideration for  _what_  exactly he was doing. They should’ve talked about this sooner, and fuck, maybe Steve had tried but he just…he was shit, at this. It was half of why he’d never been able to keep a serious relationship even on the rare occasions he’d gotten into one, girlfriend or otherwise, and the thought of saying something at this point was pretty damn terrifying. Because  _now_ , what the fuck could he say?   
  
There were dozens of words, hundreds of openings that chased themselves around his head.   
  
 _I love you, and I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m an idiot, and there was this girl last night and- Steve, if I’d known that I- Look, I’m not so good at workin’ things out lots of times and- I gotta tell you the truth, last night I…it was stupid, but I think I’m in love with you, or, I know I-_  
  
“Chris?”   
  
He twitched, tried to cover it by going for his beer and pretending that had been the source of motion all along. He took a long drink, the cover up doing nothing to calm his nerves and instead making him clear his throat nervously as he sat the bottle back down. He looked up, knew damn well he looked suspicious by the way his eyes couldn’t quite meet Steve’s, but  _fuck_  he hadn’t been ready, hadn’t found the right words yet.   
  
“You ok?” Nothing there but concern, pure and simple, and he nodded, swallowing. Yeah. Yeah, he was fine. Other than the whole being an idiot thing. Apparently at the moment, he was also a mute idiot. Goddammit.   
  
Fuck it. All explanations aside, he knew where he went wrong, and the whole point was to learn from your mistakes, wasn’t it? Theoretically at least. He took another swig of his beer, set on down table with a lot more certainty than he felt, and he forced himself to actually look up at Steve when he managed to unhinge his jaw.   
  
“We should do this for real.” It wasn’t eloquent, not particular. Not at all, really. It wasn’t even explanatory, and he was about to try to start stumbling through clarifying what he meant by ‘this’ when he could see the smile already breaking out on Steve’s face, his eyes lighting with it.   
  
He sat forward at the table, forearms nudging his plate to the side as he laid them down, shrinking the distance between them. “God, absolutely.”   
  
Steve laughed then and they both smiled, and for just a minute, it was easy. Natural. He took Steve’s hand when he offered it and they forgot all about the dishes and ended up on the sofa, Christian straddling Steve’s lap as they kissed. Steve was ravenous, eager hands sliding everywhere as if only now for the first time he had full permission, and when Steve’s hands gripped his hips to pull Chris down to grind hard against the already swelling bulge there they both gasped.   
  
It shouldn’t be this easy. It  _shouldn’t_. He’d….he’d waited around, just been fucking around, and every rule said that shouldn’t work. There wasn’t much to change between them now but the ‘official’ nature of the conversation, and yet last night he’d been in someone else’s bed while Steve had yet to actually share his. He hadn’t told him, hadn’t even properly said anything to him now and yet it was coming together instead of falling apart, and it shouldn’t…not for  _him_ , it shouldn’t be that easy.   
  
He slowed down, though with Steve’s hungry nips against his lower lip it wasn’t easy. He cradled Steve’s face in his hands, gentled their kisses enough to finally pull away slowly, the taste of Steve still dizzying on his tongue. He was short of breath, and though he’d never met anyone that kissed better than Steve he’d have been willing to bet money it was fear rather than skill driving the way he couldn’t catch his breath just then.   
  
“I can’t…with the acting, I can’t…” He licked his lips, shook his head once, slow. “Steve, we can’t tell anyone.”   
  
“If that’s what you want.”   
  
Yeah, he did. Without a doubt. He’d heard _and_  seen too many horror stories from people who’d come out and…it just wasn’t something he could ever consider, not with his career. It was impossible, too much to ask and here he was asking it, heaping more onto the dozens of reasons why he’d never wanted to start this conversation. Him not realizing how overdue it was was starting to make more and more sense every second.   
  
“We’ll have to…just friends and family, and-“  
  
“I got it, Chris.” His smile gentled any added fear the words might have left Chris with, and he threaded his fingers through Christian’s hair to pull him in just a tiny bit closer, their foreheads resting against each other. “We’ll work it out.”   
  
“You really wanna do this?” Steve’s fingers were still moving slow, tracing senseless, comforting patterns against his scalp. Any minute now he was gonna back up, say it was too much or he wasn’t ready for that or-  
  
“Absolutely. C’mere.” He hesitated at first but the pressure in Steve’s touch was insistent and he let himself be dragged in, his lips parting easily for Steve’s tongue when he sought entrance. To Christian, Steve kissed the same way he played his music, all heart and soul. Right then, Steve was absorbed in tasting him, thorough and eager though less rushed than when he’d first pulled Chris down onto the couch with him. There was nothing like this, nothing in the world and he shoved everything else aside and lost himself in it, in the way Steve’s hands were rubbing at the backs of his thighs and the wet heat of Steve’s tongue against his own. They took a breath together, equally unsteady, his own sucking in just a little sharper when Steve’s teeth tugged lightly on his swelling lower lip. Christian moaned, couldn’t help but squirm a little at the soft ‘ _Fuck_ , Christian’ that earned him from Steve’s lips.   
  
Chris shifted his hold on Steve then, hands sliding back to tighten in soft blonde hair enough to tilt his head back, giving him all the access he needed to his neck. There he could feel Steve’s pulse jump, feel the vibration of Steve’s soft noises against his lips. Steve’s hands hadn’t stopped, not for a second and Chris could feel his cock leaking in his boxers, twitching every time Steve’s fingers trailed over the inside of his thighs or squeezed lightly on his ass. There were about a million things he wanted, and almost none that he felt like he could have just then. They’d been fucking for awhile now, foolin’ around for longer than that, but he had yet to let Steve take him. He’d been curious, sure, but now more than ever with the feel of Steve’s strong hands against him, he  _wanted_  it. Now, though, wasn’t the time. Too rushed, too sudden, and he was too close. They couldn’t, not right now.   
  
He licked his lips, his tongue flicking a little against the hollow of Steve’s throat in the process and he felt Steve’s whole body rise up toward him, his hips thrusting just a little more eagerly. He could have gone for it then, could’ve flipped them over and fished around in the end table for lube and a condom. Steve would ride him, hands braced on the back of the couch behind Christian’s shoulders, and he’d make the most glorious little noise that wasn’t quite a whine when Chris had mercy on him and jerked him off so Steve could come before he did. He knew, because they’d done this before. Right now, though, he wasn’t sure he’d last once they were naked long enough to get him prepped right, and they weren’t gonna do it too quick.   
  
Well, that was most of his reason at least, the reason he’d give if he had to give one at all. And it was true. It was also true, though, that even if he could’ve gathered the patience, he didn’t feel like he deserved it. For awhile there kissing Steve his head had been clear, but everything was pulling at the back of his mind again in a nagging jumble, flashes of the trust he’d seen in Steve’s eyes before, the same look he’d see now if he looked and…  
  
Steve tugged at his belt, his fingers wrapping around the leather as he turned his head until his lips brushed hot against Christian’s ear. “As good as you look in these, I’m startin’ to hate these jeans a little.”   
  
He laughed, lips curving up into a smirk against Steve’s neck. “Can’t imagine why.”   
  
“I’m sure.” He nuzzled against him, hummed gratefully low in his throat when Chris obliged and turned to kiss him. It was loose and wet, a little messy and so utterly arousing. Steve’s hands gripped him hard, adding to the friction when they rutted together. “C’mon.” His whisper was enough to make Chris’ skin tingle, weighed down low with arousal. His hands slid along the belt, grip shifting to either side of his buckle. “Lemme get these off.”   
  
He shook his head, hair brushing against Steve’s cheek. He was about to protest, he could see, and he stopped him halfway through the first word, kissing him as he worked one of his own hands between them to join Steve in working at his buckle. It would’ve been easy enough though it was complicated by too many hands, not that he really cared. There was something in doing it like this, feeling their fingers fumble together as they worked first his and then Steve’s jeans open so their cocks could meet, skin on skin.   
  
That was it, enough for now, and when Chris wrapped one hand around them both, Steve’s fingers curled around to match with his. Together, then. Well, it was always better like that anyway, even better when they were pressed as close as they were now. They were still mostly clothed, and though he missed the feel of Steve’s bare chest rubbing against his there was something so erotic in the rough slide of their shirts, cotton dragging against cotton, tiny patches of skin brushing heatedly where they’d pushed up their shirts just enough to give themselves room.   
  
There was plenty he had yet to learn about Steve, he knew, but at least a little, he was already learning him with the familiarity of a lover. Steve’s breath hitched, his hips jerking up just a little out of rhythm and Chris thrust harder into their joined hands, his cock rubbing just a little harder against Steve’s. He blew some hair out of his own eyes with a ragged breath, eager to watch. When he came, Steve was fucking beautiful, every time. He squeezed his grip gently, his fingers coaxing.   
  
“C’mon, darlin’.” He hadn’t meant to say it, exactly, but immediately it sounded right.   
  
Steve’s head fell back against the cushion as he came, his pale throat exposed. Chris licked his lips, wished he could mark him there, somethin’ for all the world to see. If only. There was the feel of Steve’s cock jerking against his, of warm fluid easing the slide between them, and the sound of the low moan that had risen from deep in his chest. All of that nearly pushed him over the edge, but it was just almost enough, just enough to push him right up against the razor’s edge, enough that when Steve pulled him close and pressed a kiss over his temple, he came, spilling over Steve’s thumb as it brushed almost lazily over the head of his cock.   
  
They stayed just like that, Steve’s slowing breath tickling his hairline as they both came down. They waited, the air around them cooling into what felt like a chill to previously overheated skin. They were sticky, in need of a shower or at least a washcloth, he was gonna start gettin’ stiff soon, and everything in the kitchen still needed to be dealt with.   
  
None of it,  _none_  of it mattered. After longer than he’d bothered to keep track of, Steve shifted, leaving a soft kiss against his hair a little higher up.   
  
“I’ve wanted to tell you that…” He took a deep breath, his chest rising with the motion. “That it’s just been you for awhile now, and I thought it'd be worth it to try. But I wasn’t sure that was something you wanted and…” He could  _hear_  his smile, settling light over his words and sinking like needles into Christian’s skin. “Anyway. It’s a good idea.”   
  
Yeah. Yeah, it was. And it’d have been an even better one a hell of a lot sooner. Chris sighed, the absolute utter perfection of the moment broken by the unease gnawing at him all over again. He sat up, took Steve’s face in his hands for a quick kiss before he climbed off of him. He smiled, offered Steve his hand and helped pull him to his feet.   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
“…you didn’t tell him.”   
  
Chris raked the fingers of his left hand through his hair, cell phone still pressed tight to his ear with his right as he paced across his bedroom.   
  
“No, no I didn’t tell him.”   
  
“ _Damn it_ , Christian! You-“  
  
“David, c’mon, man, hear me out. Ok?” He swallowed, nearly paused in his frantic pacing as he tried to say it just right. “It’d be pointless. I did it, I fucked up, and it’s over. It makes no sense to tell him. I mean yeah, it was my fault, but we’re together now, and it’d just…there’s just no sense in it.” Then why,  _why_  did he sound so nervous sayin’ it that he was talkin’ a hundred miles an hour?   
  
“All delusions about what your relationship was prior to tonight aside, Christian, do you  _really_  think this isn’t going to come out sooner or later?” God, he hated it when David had that ‘I know I’m right and you should listen before you fuck something up’ voice. It was so…accurate.   
  
“No.  _No_. I mean, how could it?” He stopped in his pacing, shifted nervously and half buried his face in one hand. From what he could see of himself in the mirror across the way, he looked like a goddamn nervous wreck. “He just…he doesn’t need to know. I don’t wanna hurt him like that.  _I_  know and I regret it; that’s enough.”   
  
“So not now, you just want to hurt him later.”   
  
“ _David_ -“  
  
“Alright, alright.” On the other end of the line, David sighed, and he heard the phone shift. “I’m not sure why you call me when your mind’s already made up.” Yeah, he wished he had an answer to that one, too. At least, an answer that wasn’t ‘Because I need you to tell me it’s ok’, because he was pretty sure David wouldn’t accept that one. “Look, Chris…I don’t like it. I don’t think it’s smart, and I think things we try to hide always have a way of coming out but if you think it’s best then…then don’t tell him.”   
  
He let out a slow breath, nodding even though David couldn’t see him. “Yeah. Ok.” He paused, swallowed hard a few times before he managed to speak. David gave him the time; he always did. “I love him.”   
  
“I’m assuming you didn’t tell him  _that_  either.” That time, he didn’t wait too long for an answer. “Chris, you know, you really need to work on-“  
  
“How’s Jamie?” Hey, he could talk. About lots of things, at least. That was enough, right? In any case, sometimes changing the subject was the best that he could do. 


End file.
